


The Prince and the Heiress BVDN October 2018

by rockykelboa



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Italian Mafia, New York City, Russian Mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 06:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockykelboa/pseuds/rockykelboa
Summary: A bit of drabble for the TPTH October All Ages BVDN. **Disclaimer** I moderated the event, so I knew the theme and prompts ahead of time!!!The theme was Mafia, and the prompts were:family, protection, territory, garbage man, black market, racketeering, strongarm, put out a hit, blood for blood, and wiseguys





	The Prince and the Heiress BVDN October 2018

  


****Prompt 1: FAMILY****

The older woman craned her neck over her shoulder as she stirred the pot. “Hi boys. Dinner’s in ten. Tell the kids to set the table, will ya? They’re out back with Raditz.” 

Vegeta ran off to fetch said kids, and his cousin Kakarot strode over to the younger girl with the bread knife. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he bent to kiss her. 

“Who’s your friend?” The girl smiled warmly, and nodded her chin at Bulma.

“Oh! This is Vegeta’s friend, actually.”

“Wow!” The woman at the saucepan smirked as she looked Bulma over. “Aren’t you a doll? My nephew’s never brought a girl home to meet the family. We were starting to wonder.”

“Well… We _just met_ on the D train. He saved me from a mugger. Technically, Kakarot invited me for dinner,” Bulma admitted with a wink toward the tall, affable guy.  


*****

****Prompt 2: PROTECTION****

Vegeta wrenched open the sticky door and stepped onto the small brick patio. It snapped shut behind him with a thwack. Raditz didn’t look up. He was busy rolling a cigarette at the table, and the kids were…

“What the fuck!? Tarble! Put down the fucking gun!” 

His brother sheepishly lowered the weapon he’d been pointing at Gohan in a game of cops and… mobsters, probably. 

“You ain’t watching them?”

“Yeah, I was.” Raditz shrugged. “They’re fine. He’s what, sixteen? Kid’s gotta learn to protect himself.”

“He’s twelve, you moron. And I protect him,” Vegeta said, with a tap of his fist against his sternum.

*****

****Prompt 3: TERRITORY****

Kakarot dragged a piece of bread across his plate, painting it with homemade marinara. “Where’s pop?” He asked his mother. 

“Cleaning up your bother’s mess in Brighton Beach.” She looked up from the expert twirl of noodles against her spoon, glaring at the big man with the big hair.

“Oh, come on, ma! It ain’t that bad,” the eldest whined.

The two kids giggled through mouthfuls of noodles when Gine slammed down her utensils to cuff Raditz’s head.

“You stay out of their territory from now on, you hear me!”

“Yes ma,” Raditz mumbled.

Bulma looked up at Vegeta, who gave her a dark, ominous look that meant _yes, this is what you think it is, and keep your damn mouth shut._

*****

****Prompt 4: GARBAGE MAN****

The kids wrestled with Kakarot in the living room, while the girl from the train helped his aunt Gine and ChiChi with the dishes. 

Raditz’s little adventure in Brighton Beach had put the whole family in a precarious situation, and Vegeta was tasked to deliver the news. 

He lit both his cigarette and his cousin’s, taking a long drag before he spoke. “You’re on garbage detail until further notice.” 

Raditz laughed, but sensing no humor from Vegeta, the sound died quickly in his throat. “They’re taking me off security to be a bill collector? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! I’m family. I’m a fucking capo! And I have seniority over you, cos.”

Bold, careless, and stupid, was Vegeta’s older cousin. Seniority, ha! Not even his uncle Bardock would have seniority over him much longer. Any day now, he’d be promoted.

*****

****Prompt 5: BLACK MARKET****

Vegeta glared at Raditz through a veil of smoke. “Okay, cos, if you’re so damn superior, you wanna tell me what you were doing with the Ruskies’ arms dealer?”

“It wasn’t arms,” Raditz narrowed his eyes and shook his head, his cigarette resting precariously between his lips. “And it wasn’t a Ruskie either. He’s Ukrainian, a jew. And he happens to be cozy with the Columbian cartel. Owns a submarine that can transport product, undetected, right to our docks.” 

His hand waved like a fish in a little swimming motion. “Our pops wanted to corner the market, and I’m delivering! What have you done for us recently, Vegeta? Kissing dick in Manhattan? Politicians, Wall Street bankers? No…” 

He shook his head and tapped his fingers to his chest. “We gotta take what’s ours in our own fuckin’ neighborhood. I ain’t greasing palms with those elitist fucks.”

*****

****Prompt 6: RACKETEERING****

“Tch.” Vegeta batted a hand at the moron. “Those elitist fucks would see right through your racket.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” Raditz said, annoyed. He stepped into the yard and began to clean up Gohan’s toys, tossing them into the plastic bin at the side of the house, pretending not to listen.

“You wanna know what I’ve done, huh?” Vegeta went on, raising his voice to Raditz’s back. “I got our guys the waterfront in Meat Packing. I got ‘em urban-renewal contracts in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m putting us inside the machine. Every damn pothole up and down the avenues is ours. We need politicians and investors in our pocket, jackass.”

“You’re telling me that ain’t a racket.” Raditz sneered and chucked a ball at the bin.

“Of course it’s a racket, but they don’t spot mine.”

*****  
*****

****Prompt 7: STRONGARM****

“What is it?” Tarble tipped the little cardboard containers toward him, sniffing at their contents with a scrunched nose.

Bulma set a bowl and chopsticks in front of him, and the boys eyes just about bugged out of his skull. He dangled the foreign utensils between his thumb and forefinger, looking them over like a mouse he’d caught by the tail and was debating what method of torture he’d use to dispose of it. 

“When are you gonna learn how to cook?” the boy sneered at Bulma. 

“Shut up and eat.” Vegeta snapped, smacking his brother upside the head. After a long day of strong-arming the HUD’s deputy secretary over a tenement bid, he was in no mood to argue with Tarble over dinner. 

Before he could sit, a heavy knock had him striding toward the the front door. 

*****

****Prompt 8: PUT OUT A HIT****

“Family meeting. Get dressed.” There was no mistaking the severity of the situation as Vegeta read the hard lines of Nappa’s face.

He quickly dressed before he rejoined the big man in the foyer, calling to Bulma over his shoulder, “Kid’s in bed by nine. Don’t wait up.”

A car waited for them out front. Nappa sighed as he hoisted his frame into the passenger seat. “The Colds put out a hit on Broly. Damn fool lost his temper in a card game, shot one of their own.” 

“God damnit! Fucking loose cannon.”

Nappa spun back to look at him, a smile nudging the corners of his lips. “I heard you got that little honey knocked up. When’s the wedding?”

A blush stole his cheeks, and Vegeta turned toward the window to hide it. “One thing at a time, old man. Let’s deal with Broly first.”

*****

****Prompt 9: BLOOD FOR BLOOD****

He followed Nappa through the warehouse and into the back office. His father sat behind the big, oak desk, twirling a letter opener, his eyes pinned on Broly in front of him. 

Bardock leaned against the wall at his back, and Raditz lounged in a corner chair, tossing peanuts into his mouth. 

“I filled him in,” Nappa said. 

Bardock stepped forward and cleared his throat. “It’s worse than we thought. Seems the dead Ruskie was one of their lieutenants. Goes by the name _Cui_.”

“I swear, I didn’t know!” Broly shifted between his feet. 

“I know him.” Vegeta, cut him off. He knew all of their rival’s leaders and associates. “So what’s the terms?”

Bardock looked up at him from under the ridge of his brows. “Blood for blood… War against the Saiyani family if we refuse.”

*****

****Prompt 10: WISEGUYS****

“You want to be boss one day?” his father stabbed the letter opener into the desk. “What’s your plan, son?”

Vegeta didn’t hesitate. Before Broly even turned around, Vegeta triggered his pistol and shot him in the back of the head. He dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

“Holy shit!” Raditz jumped from the chair, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared down at Broly’s body. 

Wiseguy or not, Broly’d had enough chances. A war wasn’t worth one mid-level associate, an erratic one at that. 

When his father merely sat back in chair and folded his hands in his lap, Vegeta knew he’d made the right decision. 

“Clean this up, Raditz.” He gestured at the body with his gun and looked to his uncle. “Tell Frieza it’s done.”


End file.
